Snarl

It is very busy at work these days and I just snapped (snapped!) at this woman who irritates the hell out of me on a regular basis. She is one of those people who dishes it out, but can't take it.

She seemed quite shocked that I let her have it in a tone that is similar to her own.

I did not, however, go "Full JAW Fan" on her.

This b**** retires at the end of the year, and I'm considering putting up a count-down calendar in my office and crossing off each day with delight and satisfaction...I am not one to wish away the time, but man, will I be happy when this nut job is out of my life.

Celebrity B-Day

The Prez of the USA turns 48 today. hmm. I'm still adjusting to the idea that he is slightly (only slightly!) younger than me. (and Mr. Anonymous, and Ms Mushrooms and Mr Mushrooms)

I wish him the best, in particular that people will stop analysing and/or ridiculing his choice to wear baggy "Mom" jeans. He's middle-aged. It would be silly for the most powerful man in the world to wear tight jeans. You know Sarkozy would do it, but he's an idiot.

At least Obama doesn't have a pot belly. I wish I could say that.

But how can I lose weight when IGA insists on selling Pringles at a 2-for-1 special. That comes to only $1.10 per can. I cannot resist that bargain. Sadly, it means even my "Mom" jeans are getting tight.

Oh, and I decided to buy a case of 12 lime-flavoured Bud Lites. This summer is a dietary write-off.

Chillin' and snoozin'

At midsummer, can anything be more relaxing than wedging oneself between a lawn mower, an emergency kit and a rake? I think not.

Weekend Roundup

It's raining! Quelle surprise! At least yesterday was beautiful.

My new t.v. is installed and running. It was E-Z. Even for a luddite like me. When my sister saw it (they have a 46") she said: it looks like a baby t.v.! She said this in a cute way. Coochie coochie coo. But compared to the 19" I had before, it seems growed-up to me.

It is not connected to the VCR or DVD player yet, however. For now I'm just enjoying the set. And you know what? The picture is totally acceptable in non-HD. I really don't have a problem with it. Last night we watched American History X which is in black and white, and it looked terrific. Perhaps that is the beauty of black-and-white.

(Aside. Speaking of AHX, how come Edward Norton played such a good tough guy and has spent the rest of his career being wimpy? What a waste.)

In other news, of cats and allergies. My nephew was over and he is allergic to cats. As soon as he sat down, he sneezed. So his mom gave him a sudafed and later he had two beers*. When she asked him this morning how he had slept he said: Not too bad, those Bud Lites did the trick.

I'm not a fan of Bud myself but he had the new ones, lime-flavoured, and I'm going to buy some. Yummy! and I don't even need them for medicinal purposes.

(*Not recommended for Mushrooms Jr for at least 9 years.)

New camera = you guessed it

Glamour pusses. Mr. D. is an accommodating subject, but Le Grand Orange is "star" material. A born poseur.

And Congratulations to the Mushrooms family on the feline addition to their family.

Nuthin' is like it used to be

I am, at this moment, eating Smarties.

This is the first time I have eaten Smarties since they got rid of the green, brown and blue ones which were apparently going to maim and kill us all slowly and painfully.

It's a bit strange to see only yellow, red, orange, purple and black ones. Are the black really black or just dark brown? I'm not sure. There's an overabundance of pink, though, that's for sure.

The first time they changed Smarties, when they added the blue ones, I thought: I'm not sure that I agree with this. It affected my sense of Smartie authenticity.

And, now, with the green ones completely gone, I am again left adrift by the changing Smarties. Never realized til now how much the green ones appealed to me.

Adrift, I say.

Mental health break

Speaking of summer and "air conditioning" and action photography, the most amusing/interesting photos I've seen on-line in a while are of the US swimmer whose bathing suit ripped right up the back when he plunged into the water. heh heh. Fortunately, being an athlete, he's got a backside not to be embarrassed about. Imagine if this had happened to Alec Baldwin! I fear it wouldn't be such a nice sight:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/07/27/ricky-berens-splits-swims_n_245780.html

All's well

I picked up my new t.v. at the friggin' post office last night. How weird to step up to the counter to collect a package and have it be a 50-lb box. Oh well. I got the darn thing home. And all this without getting wet. The rain started 30 minutes after my box-lugging ordeal.

Did I mention how humid it was last night. Not fun.

Now to get the darn thing installed. Fortunately my nephew will be around this weekend. Should I have trouble with the new t.v. I figure a kid his age can hook it up no problemo. But I hope not to need his assistance. On verra.

I also got my new camera. I have finally entered the digital world. yippee. So be prepared to see a number of action photos of fat cats. "Action" being lying in the grass. I need to practice my artistic "skills".

Summertime, summertime, sum, sum, summertime

Summer is finally here. Now I can bitch, bitch, bitch about the freakin' humidity.

I'm happy.

Let the complaining commence.

Summer television is lousy

I tried to watch the fat people dating show that premiered last night. I figured I needed some mindless summer t.v. watching (not that I have a new t.v. yet!, she muttered).

Why do people watch these shows? This is the first one I’ve seen, and I couldn’t make it all the way through. Is there really that big an audience for cheesy romance? It’s weird and uncomfortable.

Question: am I just really old? When did it become acceptable to say “I’m a great person”. If you have to keep saying “I’m a wonderful person” then maybe you aren’t so wonderful. Is this what the self-esteem movement of the past 20 years has wrought? “I’m really wonderful. I’m a catch”. Oh Ms Stewart Smalley, shut up.

The Fatchelor seems like a nice guy, but the women are so needy and pathetic. (Note to self: Duh, it’s dating show!) How can every single one of them feel “a connection” in the first 2 seconds? Lame.

And as a fat girl myself, I have to say that fat girls shouldn’t wear short skirts. Really. I don’t show off my fat potato-stomper legs, and neither should you.

On Monday I failed at watching the people-dating-in-the-dark show, too. The women were okay, but one of the men was so annoying to me that I had to switch him off.

So my t.v. watching has been reduced to the Red Sox, who are thankfully on RSE a lot, and The Big Bang Theory. I noticed for the first time this week how much Jim Parsons has a Rowan Atkinson rubber face. They could play Bean & Son.

My new t.v.

Last weekend I bought a new t.v. I bought it online (with free delivery!) so that I would not have to deal with lugging it home. The anticipated date of delivery was this Thursday. It is coming via Canada Post. I have a tracking number.

This morning when I checked, the package had been processed in Mississauga last night. I was expecting to perhaps stay home tomorrow in anticipation of an early delivery. Just now, I checked Canada Post’s website again as I am a compulsive tracking checker. It says the item is in Montreal and “out for delivery”. Shit! I’m not home!

Why are they being so efficient? I hope that with an item as big as a t.v. (26” Samsung*) they will make more than one attempt at delivery before forcing me to go to the post office and get that sucker back home on my own steam.

The last thing I want to do is complain that Canada Post’s service is too fast, but well, yeah, I may have to complain. What a dumb turn of events.

(*Had an argument with Kumar about the price. Long story. Perhaps in another post.)

This is summer?

Call me Noah. There was a thundercrack around 10 last night that made me jump out of my skin.

For a change it is sunny right now but it looks so windy the flags are ready to be torn from the flagpoles and the clouds are zipping by like they're in fast motion. Weird apocalyptic weather.

And I'm busy. At work. Too busy. It's not fun.

My vacation is the first 2 weeks of September. While I am looking forward to it, it also means that by the time vacation comes, summer is over. Wah!

Only 14 years to retirement...

Celebrity Death News - Canine Edition

The Taco Bell dog died.

This does not, however, constitute Celebrity Death No. 3 for this week, as the rules state that all celebrity deaths must be human deaths.

Don't ask to see the rule book. Just take my word for it.

Forecast says...

...more rain all weekend.

I think I'm getting depressed.

Thank god I've been told that God of Gamblers can be found on YouTube. If Chow Yun Fat tumblin' dice can't cheer me up, nothing can.

O Brother Where Are Thou?

There’s not much in the news these days, i.e. no charlatan financial adviser has absconded with MY money, so I’ll share a couple of Kumar stories to pass the time.

(If you wondering where the Mushroomses have disappeared to, they are at a scenic lake in Saskatchewan for 2 “relaxing” weeks. Until they started going there, I didn’t realize Saskatchewan even had any scenic lakes. So much I don’t know about this Great Land of Ours.)

So, Kumar and I were discussing nuclear arsenals (not a euphemism). He was concerned about the eventual, inevitable deterioration of the facilities which store nuclear weapons around the world. This led to a discussion of mankind’s generally violent nature. I said that we can’t do anything about it. Since the first time a caveman hit another caveman over the head with a rock, humans have been violent. He stopped me right there and said: No, not cavemen. The first violent act by a human was Cain against Abel. Yes, of course it was. Those two brothers, they just slipped my mind.

In other news, he told me that recently he was shocked, shocked to learn that his younger brother has been hiding a “secret” girlfriend. She is an Anglophone (translation: white Canadian infidel). Kumar had NO IDEA his brother was seeing someone. (Does this run in the family, or what, I thought.) I love a family with secrets. Anyway, this has become an issue because Kid Brother is seriously thinking about marrying his infidelette, and he needs Big Brother’s support against The Parents, who apparently will be unhappy when they find out about this utter madness. (I'm picturing a lot of breast-beating and garment-rending.) So Kumar has offered KB his complete support to do what he wants with his life and marry who he wants. Film at 11.

Alphabits

What do you call it when one person, let’s call her N, was seeing another person K and then they agreed to stop seeing each other because N lives in the province of Q, but K lives in the province of O, in the city of T, which is 6 hours drive from the city of M, where N lives.

Also, K is sort of religious and creationist, and he follows I, but N is non-religious and is a lapsed RC, and this is a fundamental difference. But N and K really like each other. So after 2 months, K came back, but they agreed they were still not seeing each other, but then K came back again, and now neither N nor K knows whether they are seeing each other again, but they probably aren’t. But they still plan to see each other without officially “seeing each other”.

Is there a name for this situation?

Old Celeb Dies

Walter Cronkite was 92. He was old. When you've lost Cronkite, you've lost Middle America. I guess that particular sentiment doesn't really apply here, but it was a good line.

Does this round off any group of three celeb deaths? Or has it been long enough that he is the first in the next group of three?

I hereby declare Cronkite to be No. 1 on the latest list.

Who shall fill the No 2 and 3 positions? Any ideas? Who is looking sickly lately? Frank McCourt is on the verge. I guess he will be No. 2, unless somebody sneaks in ahead of him. That would be a newscaster, an author, and.... We need an actor, singer or politician to round out the group.

P.S. Holy mackerel. it's 3 hours later, and I just read that Frank McCourt is dead. I swear I didn't think he's was going to jump into the No. 2 spot that fast. RIP Mr. McCourt.

Guess What?

It's raining again! Wheeee!

I'm so glad I took a day off yesterday. I got a sunburn. What a treat.

Happy Bastille Day

(Other than the title, this post has nothing to do with France.)

In money matters....

Last Saturday, the lottery prize was about $22 million, and I won TEN dollars. I was so excited. So tomorrow I have to reinvest my winnings because the top prize is now up to $32 million. I was so thrilled with my TEN dollar prize that I can’t imagine winning more. $32 million buys a lot of Triscuits.

In other news, I was reading the G&M’s article about high-interest savings accounts, which are basically non-existent these days, unless you consider 1.6% to be high interest. But the thing that caught my eye is that one of the best rates is offered by Canadian Tire Bank. Excuse me? Canadian Tire has its own bank?

Am I the only person who didn’t know this? Canadian Tire is where I might go for a garden hose or a lawn chair, but Canadian Tire Bank? If I made a withdrawal would I get regular Bank of Canada money or would I get Canadian Tire money. And for years, Canadian Tire had Scrooge as its spokesman. Would I invest my money with Scrooge? Maybe he wouldn’t even let me make a withdrawal. He'd keep all my money and fondle it with his greedy little fingerless gloves. I don’t trust this bank at all.

le Deluge

Rain, rain, go away
You're destorying my plants
You effing rain.

On a brighter note: I've now gone a full week without chips! Bravo for me. I'm really clearing out those Triscuits, though. (I never claim to be perfect.)

Talk about the weather

I went to the glorious city of my birth for a family do today. All morning the weather station was going booga booga booga, scaring me with their forecast. What a storm there’s going to be, they claimed. Be afraid, be afraid.

The day was sunny, and everything was hunky dory through our family reunion lunch hour. I headed for home with only a few drops falling. I drove and drove, and suddenly I was turning into JAW Fan. Stupid alarmist fools at the weather station, I grumbled. Trying to scare me. I hate you people, I said with a sneer. I was already planning on calling JAW Fan later to say, those annoying scaremongers at the weather station…how I hate them.

But then…approaching the Champlain Bridge, it hit. It was soooo bad. I could barely see the road. It was awful. It crossed my mind that I could be the subject of one of those oddity news stories: The woman who drowned in her car. People still talk about the guy who drowned in his car on Decarie a few years ago. I was sure I following in his wet foot steps. Glug, glug.

I got home and there was a bit of water on the basement floor, a sure sign of a heavy downfall.

Well, I survived. But it was not fun. Not fun at all.

Caption this photo

Harper: So I stuck it in my pocket! (haw haw)
Merkel: Ha! Ha! Ha! (thinking: What a douchenozzle!)
Young woman next to Merkel: (thinking: Unfuckinbelievable.)

Young woman in front row: (thinking: How long can I keep this smile pasted on my face when I'm trapped between these two old pervs. help!)

Sarko: Whawn hawn hawn. I am so French.
Berlusconi: Guess where my hand is!! Hee hee.

Wafergate

Ok, let's tackle Stephen Harper and the Disappearing Host, shall we?

I say he pocketed it.

I watched the video. When one is given Communion, the Host goes from hand to mouth PDQ. Harpo kept fingering the thing, like he was at the roulette table in Vegas and it was his last chip.

If it don't go from hand to mouth is less than a second, it don't go to mouth at all.

It's in his jacket pocket, gathering lint, right now!

The PM's spokesman is paid to say was the PM tells him to say. So, yeah, having that stooge says Harpo ate the Host does not prove a thing.

I want Benny16 to take Harpo aside tomorrow, throw him into a confessional and say "Talk! Talk! Vee have vays of making you talk, you evangelical dumbo". If you don't want Communion, don't put your hands out. Sure Michaelle Jean stuck her hands out, but Michaelle ate raw seal heart! She takes everything in stride. Would Harpo eat raw seal heart? I think not. But then his jacket pocket would stink like crazy.

So, to summarize, the sky is blue, the grass is green and I still hate Harper. These are constants in life.

Never say never

I vowed I was not going to post anything about Michael Jackson's funeral. I avoided the whole story as best I could. But I just saw pictures of his kids. All three of them. And, wow, Blanket actually looks like him!

Blanket looks more like a girl than a boy. This being said, he's the only one of the kids who looks like his father. Could Blanket be the only one who is actually a biological offspring?

Cute kid.

A-Triscuit, A-Trasket

Further to a discussion with JAW Fan (whose company makes those tasty Triscuit treats), I compared the total calorie count of a full bag of buffalo wing/blue cheese potato chips vs a full box of T's.

The box of Triscuits comes in at 1,000 calories, whereas the full bag of chips totals 1,750 calories.

So while T's are not quite a "diet food", they aren't as bad for me as chips.

All of this calculating is unfortunately delaying me in reporting on the only really important news of this day: Joyce DeWitt arrested for drunk driving!

No way to smoothly segue from Triscuit to DeWitt, I fear. However they do rhyme, so maybe a poem is hidden in here...

Sad announcment

I am, and not for the first time, giving up chips. Smokers, I do understand you. I have lived and will now live again the agony of chip withdrawal. Alcoholics, I get it. I now will start each day vowing that, today, I will not eat a chip. Or a Cheeto. I can only plan for one day at a time. I consider myself a charter member of CA.

Yesterday, Day One, I snacked on Triscuits. They are yummy, for what they are. But the idea of trying to convince (or fool) myself that a Triscuit is in any way, shape or form, a substitute for a potato chip (or a Cheeto) makes me more than a bit depressed. What’s next? Rice cakes? Probably. Eat rice cakes and wear a hair shirt.

In the news

I am shocked that Palin is resigning. There's got to be a money scandal roaring down the pipe, and she is trying to get out of the public eye quickly. Maybe she'll even get arrested. That would be nice.

The real question: will this shock story get CNN off the Michael Jackson thing for more than 5 minutes? I wouldn't count on it.

Minor celebrity death news

Argh. Too busy to blog today. But in the spirit of the times, I'll post this link to the truly strangest obituary I have read in a while. Raises a number of questions, the most common being WTF?

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/07/02/world/asia/02shi.html?_r=1&ref=obituaries

Should the link not work just go to the nytimes.com obits and look up Shi Pei Pu.

People should always have sex with the lights on.

Celebrity Death News

We have a No. 3 for the latest list.

Karl Malden.

He was ancient. I mean, he was. Really old. RIP.

Oh Canada!

Happy Canada Day, In this house a.k.a laundry-window washing-and-shrub-trimming day.

You realize 2009 is half over? How did that happen so fast? It scares me how quickly time zips by.

It's time for my mid-year Resolution Round-Up. How am I doing on my 2009 New Year's Resolutions?

1) Declutter the house. Am strongly considering pushing this one onto the 2010 New Year's List. Can I do anything in the decluttering dept in 2009? I have only 6 short months to get moving. So the short answer is: No. I will not achieve this in 2009. Dud.

2) Packing a lunch. Yay. I'm still doing this. I think I have missed only one week. I'm still only packing a lunch once or twice per week, but I've stuck with this one. Frankly, some of my packed "lunches" have been pretty lame, but I've not abandoned this one. Bravo for me. (Bows.)

3) Lose weight. Sigh. And sigh again. The scale she go up, she no go down. (Why is my weight loss problem being narrated by Chico Marx? No idea, boss.) I blame this entirely on Kumar. Two Kumarless months and I gained 5 pounds. All his fault. He is so thoughtless.

Mamma Mia!

Is this a bad year to go to Italy? I have a ticket to ride to Rome in October, but do I want to go?

Bad things come in threes.

1. First they had the big eartha-quake-a
2. Today they had a nasty train derailment.
3. What will be No. 3?

I could always count the totally embarrassing loss to the Brazilians last week, but that's not quite a national disaster. (Some Italians may disagree with that. Really. 3-zip. It was ugly.)

Could my visit be No. 3? Will I, with all my negative powers, wreak havoc and bring doom to Rome? No. I am not No. 3, I am not a number. I am a free tourist.

Stay tuned...

Chip Time!

Take it away, JAW fan (I'm imagining balalaikas playing in the background):

When it comes to new chip flavours, President's Choice never ceases to blow my pants off...usually leaving me scampering around in my underwear, seeking for a place to crunch in private. This past week I had the glorious honour of sampling their new Greek Flavour potato chip (Feta, Olive and Oregano)...At first, I thought, nothing special here. Yes, they had a hint of cheesiness...but, seriously folks, nothing to write Aristotle Onassis about...However, the following day, after a couple more mouthfuls, these super tangy treats made me want to break some dishes in celebration. Obviously, my taste buds were napping the first time around or just purely lackadaisical for whatever reason.

In any case, "All hail Zeus!" is what you will shout after sampling these savoury snacks...snacks that would have made the saddest of Spartans dance his woes away in a fury of happy nakedness, leaving his confused wife wondering why her mousaka was left untouched.

On the still-ever-so-popular wang-o-meter, these Olympian delights measure a javelin-esque 8.5 inches and will have you secretly wishing that Zorba was your own private concubine.

The Return of the King Kumar

I was doing my dishes on Saturday around noon when I saw Kumar’s magical Corolla pull up in front of the house. Hadn’t seen him in 9 weeks (but who’s counting?) (Well, me actually.)

If you need to update your scorecard, let me say that a) we are definitely NOT getting back together, but b) we remain friends and on very good terms. And why not? Only Kumar manages to combine snuggling with a rambling explanation of Indian partition. He’s one in a million.

We did have a bit of a disagreement when he told me that he thinks Silvio Berlusconi is “The Man” and he should model his life after his. And I’m not sure he was joking. I said, Berlusconi is 70 years old with dyed hair, botox and plastic surgery! You wanna go that route, be my guest.

When Kumar is 70, I’ll be 90, so I don’t think his botoxed forehead will be a big concern of mine. My only worry will be, hey, where’s the orderly? It’s time to change my Depends.

Point to Ponder

I have been thinking about the "death comes in threes" theory, and I believe we are short a celebrity death. To explain:

1. David Carradine
2. The man who invented the magic fingers bed
3. Ed McMahon

next

1. Farrah
2. MJ
3. ????

We're due for another...

New link

Ms Mushrooms kindly reminded me of a great site that I had forgotten about.

So now, whenever you have a hankering to look at pics of Cats that look like Hitler, just click on the Kitlers!! link.

That's me: Always trying to anticipate my readers needs.

No need to thank me. Sieg Miaow.

Feeling Olde

The weatherman on CBC this morning said: "I don't know much about Thriller because it came out before I was born." What is this child doing on my t.v.?

True story: talking to my sister on the phone last night, she said, COMPLETELY unprompted, "this is so big, nobody's going to be talking about Jon & Kate anymore". I swear I had not once mentioned to her my new obsession. I didn't even know she had seen the show.

What will happen to Blanket? Blanket is 7 now. I guess he hasn't been dangled out of a window for years. Who will dangle Blanket now?

Celebrity Death DAILY DOUBLE *

Holy crap!

We need 2 poems.

I didn't even get a chance to post my usual Celeb Death follow-up, which was supposed to be:

1. Ed McMahon
2. Farrah
3. Who will be No. 3?

Even death moves too fast for my meagre blogging skills. What a bad time for the Anonymous family to be away!

Michael Jackson's best song: Don't Stop Til You Get Enough. Nobody is allowed to argue with me on this. I have spoken.

Worst song? Anything he did with the wretched Paul McCartney (the famous Cirque orgy attender.) (Enuf said.)

A Canadian aside: I'm watching Newsworld right now. Is it me or is Jian Ghomeshi getting better looking as he ages? He looks hawt. Jian just said about MJ: He was a Gretzky. Only in Canada.

*Is there any way to make this headline flash on-and-off? It seems appropriate.

Celeb Death News

So Farrah finally died. She was 62.

Not much to say, but maybe tomorrow we could all sport Big Hair in her honour.

You know who is really relieved by the timing of this news? The Governor of South Carolina.

Men are dumb

I didn't watch the news until quite late last night and it turned out there was another Republican sex scandal happening. Even a news-hound like me can't keep up with these guys.

The governor of South Carolina is a lovestruck nit-wit. And irresponsible. And a liar.

Dude, the only time it makes sense to fall in love with a woman who lives in Argentina is when you also live in Argentina. Also, if it turns out that you have been taking flights to Argentina, and the tax-payer is footing the bill, you deserve to be tossed out on your ear.

The good thing is that his wife is not standing by her doofus man. That's rare in US politics. Hang him out to dry. Stick a fork in him, he's done. etc. etc.

But the big issue is, of course, all this focus on Governor Dumbo means less time for Jon & Kate!

Holiday

Happy St-Jean to everyone. It's a gorgeous hot sunny and quiet day here. I'm enjoying with great outdoors of the backyard with my feline companions, who are luvin' the cool of the green grass.

Meanwhile, Kate says that Jon is unfit to be a father. I'm now addicted to reading the gossip about J&K. It's so much better than the show. He's clearly immature, but on the other hand, he was married to Ms Dictatorette. A bad match.

Stop me anytime.

Celeb Sidekick Death News

HEY-OH
HEY-OH

How can I grieve appropriately for Ed McMahon when Jon & Kate have split up?

Oh, the humanity.

Those people again

I believe it was just last week that I said I would not waste my time watching another episode of Jon & Kate +8. But I probably will. Because, once again, the Internets are innundated with J&K+8 "intrigue" over a big announcement tonight.

And I am enough of a sucker to watch to see if they are getting separated.

What an idiot I am.

Who cares? I don't, and yet I know I will watch. Somebody save me from myself.

Summertime Fun

Yesterday I read The Road by Cormac McCarthy. This is a great book, but for those of you who are not “into grim reading” these days, and you know who you are, don’t read it. It’s a 10 on the grim-o-meter. This is about the end of the world, and not even the world as we currently know it. The end of a worse world, with our world long gone.

Having seen the Road Warrior more times than I can count, a lot of this felt familiar, but it is still a harrowing read. It reaffirmed something I’ve always known about myself. I’d rather be dead than struggling for survival. I’m too lazy to live. Frankly, I can’t even battle three groundhogs and come out on top. Forget about survival of the fittest. The thought of scavenging and hiding, and not having a nice place to go to the bathroom? Nope, no thanks.

So if world powers decide that all-out nuclear war is inevitable, well, I’m painting a big ole bull’s-eye on my roof. Drop the bomb on me, baby.

Shake, shake, shake

The guy who invented the Magic Fingers Vibrating Bed has died.

I hope he died in his sleep, while being massaged.

He was 92.

Mahmoud's Troubles

How many days have these protests being going on in Tehran? Four or five, at least.

I see the photos of crowds numbering 500,000+ marching in the streets every day, and I have only one question: Don't these people have jobs?

I don't get it

For the past 2 Mondays I have watched the most hyped show on t.v. Jon & Kate +8.

Maybe it's because I don't have 8 children of my own, but frankly I find these people dull.

She is a shrew, and he is bor-ing. Platte! as we say 'round these parts.

The kids are cute, for sure. But, really, why should I care?

Dullsville (just down the road from "Squaresville").

Dream question

Did you ever have a dream where a total stranger is central to the story?

Last night, there was this guy in my dream. A young dark-haired guy. He was complaining that my father always had a big drama queen fit at Christmas. (Ah, dreams! I luv when they make no sense.) I swear I've never seen this guy before. It wasn't a case of him being someone I know but not looking like himself. He was really someone I've never seen.

My question is: how does our brain fabricate an image of a complete stranger in our dreams?

Hockey Joke

Starbucks in Detroit has a new offering on its menu. It’s called the Hossa. It comes without a cup.

Hardy har har.

Famous People R Not Us

I’m reading about the lawsuit that the Cirque du Soleil guy has launched against the guy who published the “tell-all” unauthorized bio about him. I frankly don’t care how many drug-fuelled orgies the guy hosted. But I do have one question.

Why do celebrities always attend drug-fuelled orgies? In this case, I believe both Paul McCartney and Robert DeNiro are named as attendees.

Now I personally am not famous, but I don’t want to attend any drug-fuelled orgies, and even if I was famous, I still wouldn’t want to. But is it an obligation under the rules of fame that you have to be keen on this type of thing?

Is it a case of, say, I suddenly became well-known, I would receive an invitation from Mr. Cirque, and then I’d be, like, oh well, now that I am a celebrity, I must attend drug-fuelled orgies because that’s what the famous do in their spare time.

Why does being famous appear to automatically mean that you are into multiple-sex-partner, multiple-drug parties? Can’t you just go to somebody’s mansion for a BBQ and a few beers? Are there celebrities who don’t attend these bacchanals? And, if so, are they considered L7 losers or “squares”?

And McCartney and DeNiro are in their 60s. Don’t you just get bored with it after a few decades?

June 16, 1904

Happy Bloomsday.

Things to do*:

1. Feed cat
2. Stroll about town
3. Go to a funeral
4. Visit a brothel

(*Clarification: Not MY list of things to do, just a Bloomsday list of things to do.)

Are we sick yet?

The H1N1 don't-call-it-swine-flu* virus is now a global pandemic.

And yet, here I am, stuck with an employer who has not yet allowed us ALL to stay home and garden. How inhumane.



*I suspect "The Pig Aids" is also unacceptable, but I haven't confirmed that yet.

Fatty fatty 2 by 4

I took the day off today to take Miss Hitler to the vet. It is time for her annual shave and haircut. She is so matted, she has long since ceased to be cuddly. But tomorrow she will be all happy and bare.

On the bright side, she did not gain any weight in the past year. She is still obese and too tubby to clean her own behind. But she is not obese enough to get her own show on TLC.

Chastity

I asked JAW Fan for a poem in re Chastity's upcoming sex change. Here is his contribution:

Even if Chastity Bono gets a wiener
It ain't going to make her any leaner.


Poor Chaz. No matter whether she's a woman or a man, poor thing, she's still gonna be nothin' but a portly dullard.

Tick, tick, tick

No doubt JAW Fan is wondering what is taking me so long to get to blogging about the web site we were both on this week.

Deathclock.com

For (morbid) fun, go the site, fill in the form, but fill it in 4 times: once for each of the categories Normal, Pessimistic, Optimistic and Sadistic. And see the results.

Clearly, it doesn’t matter if you smoke your lungs out and line your arteries with tasty, tasty fats, as long as you are an Optimist, you will live forever.

Here are my forecast death dates:

Normal: May 10, 2038
Pessimist: March 3, 2015
Optimist: June 1, 2050
Sadist: May 10, 1999 (I’m already dead)

I’d like to examine the scientific methodology behind this data. But, whatever, if it’s on the internet it must be true.

Nanuk, the New Optimist

Food Fakery

A couple of decades ago, when I was in Paris and looking for something to eat that wouldn’t cost a fortune, I went into a shop and bought two quintessentially French things, which were available at home, but I just never bought them: Orangina and BabyBel cheese.

I loved Orangina while over there, but once I was home it just didn’t taste the same, so I rarely bought it again.

But BabyBels I have continued to buy, when ON SALE, for the past 20-odd years. Last night at IGA (where else?) there were BabyBels ON SALE, so I picked them up. This morning I am reading the label; it says “Cheddar Taste”.

Cheddar Taste but not cheddar? Is it not cheese? Don’t tell me that my favourite food that comes in red wax with a red wax belt and looks like a Pac Man when you remove the “product” is not cheese. I am sad. :(

No Good Thievin'

Last week at IGA, I noticed a woman doing her shopping by putting her items directly into the large cloth recycleable grocery bag that she had placed in her shopping cart.

Later, as I was standing in line to pay (like a sap), I saw her approach one of the queues and simply pull her stuffed grocery bag out of her cart, and “excuse me, excuse me, excuse me” go through the queue and out the door. It was a quick move and very efficient.

And she wasn’t no spring chicken.

How much of this fraud is going around? And why is the criminal element always so devilishly clever?

Ah, it's Miller time

I had a meeting at 9:00 that I was worried about, but I got through it looking like I knew what I was talking about and didn't make a fool of myself. So it is over. Hurray.

And my boss has taken the day off sick.

You know what that means, eh? Guess who is sitting back and resting on her laurels for the remainder of the day.

Moi.

Sometimes, I'm not smart

I, for one, am happy it is raining pitchforks this morning. Why? Because when I did my spring planting a few weeks ago, it didn't quite occur to me that planting a lot more of everything meant a lot more watering of everything.

I'm developing heavy-watering-can-shoulder-itis.

So let it rain. Let Nature do my work for me. On the plus side, my green beans are growing like cray-zee.

My lettuce remains a lost cause, as my groundhog-in-residence (whom I have named George, because he needed a name since he lives here) is devouring every shoot on a nightly basis. And this morning, I was informed that a raccoon has been hanging around the 'hood too. He also needs a name...but not Rocky.

The never-ending story

I have cancelled my subscription of the 2nd romantic mail box, the one I joined last month. I had told myself that I would only pay for one month’s membership, unless a miracle occurred (and I was popular). No such miracle materialized, nor did I see the Virgin Mary in my cheese toast, therefore Ms Frugal is saving her $40.00 per month from now on. So there!

So now what? I’m staying on the other site because it is FREE. But it is dismal too.

I’ve considered:

a) walking along Ste Cate Street at lunch time, pitching myself to the ground, and waiting for some dashing prince to pick me up. But I might be lying on the sidewalk until 2:00 and that would be bad and I’d be late getting back from lunch. And I’d have footprints on my back.

b) buying one of those “how to meet a man” books. Actually, having just saved $40.00, I could probably get more than one of those how-to's. Especially at a second hand store. (What is sadder than buying some other woman’s cast-off how-to-find-a-man book. Clearly it didn’t work for her either…) (Or she found her man, and didn't need the book anymore? That's more positive. Let's believe that.)

There must be someone nice and solvent out there. With hair.

There is a handsome young gentlemen that I see several times per week at lunch. I could simply walk up to him and say “Hiiii. Where do you work?” But I live in fear of becoming the female Howard Wolowitz of the organization. Effin’ creepy.

Thinking about Death in the afternoon

Since I’m on the subject of inconvenient death…

Last weekend someone I knew very slightly died of a cocaine overdose. Her obituary started “Suddenly, at her home…”

I’ve seen that wording many times, and innocent that I am, I’ve always assumed that the deceased had either a) a massive coronary or b) fallen off a ladder.

Now, the next time I read “Suddenly, at home” I’m gonna be thinking cocaine overdose. Or that they pulled a Carradine, so to speak.

Life and little death questions

So, it's a beautiful Friday, sunny and getting warmer. What better time to sit and ponder the idea of having a family member pleasure himself to death.

David Carridine was 72. Let us assume he had adult children. Just how does one react at one's father's funeral knowing that he died this way? i.e. how can you not laugh about it. Is it even possible to grieve knowing Dad died while...well, you know.

It has to be the most pointless, stupidest death ever.

I wonder of all the men who've died doing this, and I'm certain there are more than we can imagine, how many died on their first try? I'd say most are probably first-timers with bad timing. Who knows?

Celeb Death News

Bill Killed.*

(*Like I'm the only person who's going to make that joke.)

RIP Grasshopper.

On the way to work today

I had to get off the bus on Monkland this morning because, as I had feared might happen, I started having a huge embarrassing coughing fit. The kind where my eyes start watering, and I cannot contain it, and it sounds like I am going to cough up a giant hairball. It was awful. I walked the rest of the way to the metro so I could cough like a maniac while attracting minimal attention. Not a great start to the day.

So far at work I have been quiet. I just keep making that rrrggghhkkk throat-clearing old geezer sound that drives people crazy, but I notice that everyone is keeping their distance from me.

I DON'T HAVE SWINE FLU. I swear I don't.

So sick of being sick

I swear this is the last day I am staying home. I coughed all night, so miserable. At one point I wondered what does bronchitis feel or sound like? I dunno. I don't cough if I am vertical, but as soon as I go horizontal, it starts. Blech!

I've gone so far as to shmear myself with VapoRub this morning. A return to childhood remedies. Just to loosen the darn thing up.

If I had a sore throat I might go to IGA to see if they have any of those Daniel Craig popsicles in stock. They probably don't.

I'm reading a PD James mystery in my misery. Cats don't bother my reading. They sure are lazy though. They don't do a darn thing all day, I've noticed.

In other news, Ms Mushrooms is on her way to TO right now, as I type, to give a couple of readings and attend the big gala on Saturday. I'm sure she is scared shitless.

Still illin'

I am at home today feeling like a miserable cow. I do not like being sick. I do not like it at all.

I have managed to read a book in 24 hours. I never do this unless I am sick. I re-read, actually, When We Were Orphans. It was like reading it new since not one line of it was familiar. Maybe I never actually did read it before? I dunno. Anyway, I liked it, but it is not as good as Remains of the Day.

I may read another book today.

(Reading a book a day. Is this what it's like to be Greg? No. That would be reading a book a day, while drinking obscure Czech beer.)

Grumble, grumble

I have been attacked by a germ that has left me coughing and with a scratchy throat since Saturday. I have therefore been grumpy and kept a low profile. It's not fun.

I assume Ms Susieq is back safely in Melbourne, after her world travels, and is now suffering from jet lag. Welcome home.

Wedding Bell Blues

So. Archie is marrying Veronica.

I give it 6 months. He will soon seen the error of his ways. But I hope when he is left out in the cold, while Ronnie is boinking the pool boy, and he goes back to Betty, she laughs in his face. And then slams the door on him. Ha Ha.

Is Mr. Lodge still alive? Has Veronica inherited her father's dough? Maybe he will cut her out of the will? Then what, Archie? You gonna support that spoiled brat?

It's all wrong, wrong, wrong.

In Futbol News

Way to go, Barcelona.

I do not weep for Man U. Heh heh.

Blehhh

Yesterday evening, I discovered that the restaurant/bar across the street from my workplace makes delightfully delish and potent cosmopolitains, which we got at 2 for 1 prices.

It is not a good idea to go out on a Wednesday, if you have to work on a Thursday.

I don't feel so good today.

Morocco bound

Just when I am hoping that nobody ever responds to those “fishing” romantic emails, I get a call this morning from a colleague who tells me one of her friends is in love with her Internet man. This victim, I mean, woman divorced her alcoholic husband last year. She is now on welfare with her two children. And she has scrounged together enough money to buy a ticket to Morocco to met her man. She said: “It’s not one of those Internet things. He really loves me.” They have never met.

Sigh.

This is why those guys send out those emails. This proves my theory that it is not cynical old maids like me who are at risk in these schemes, but vulnerable widows and divorcées who don’t know how to take care of themselves.

I hope she comes to her senses before she lands in Morocco and realizes there’s nobody there to meet her.

The basic food groups

Went to IGA yesterday. (Not looking to pick-up Jewish men.)

I sauntered by the goodie aisle and counted six packages of $1.59 glazed donuts. I considered them. I looked at them longingly. I fantasized about their glazy goodness. And I walked away. Empty-handed. Victory.

At the other end of the store, I spotted that Pringles were on sale this week. This time I did not walk away. I bought “Infernal Ranch” Extremes. Verdict? As I started to taste them, they didn’t seem so infernal, but after a few minutes my lips started to burn and swell rather unpleasantly. Like a bee sting. Ranch is supposed to be cooling and soothing, no? I was puzzled. So I put them away.

I’m reserving judgement until I give them a second sampling tonight. I may have to go back to Extreme Cheddar. They are tastier and less dangerous.

I am among the wonders of God's beauty, so act accordingly!

Nothing much to blog about today, so how about I share the latest email from ye olde romantic male box. Oh boy:

"I wonder how God could let you go off so easily, seeing you has really made me forget to ask how u are doing. Well let me not be carried away by your beauty, I must tell you the truth you are among the wonders of Gods beauty.

I am sorry, i ougth to introduce my self, my name is XXXXX, am 43years old , living in Central London., I just joined this dating site in search of love..its my dream and desire to meet a woman like you as my life time partner, then I saw your profile which really captivated my attention, I like to get to understand who you are what you want out of life and a relationship, I believe from what I read in your profile. Your best feature is your heart, I saw so much light in you that I was drawn to mail you. You are so lighthearted and your smile so full of joy, I know that love can not bring understanding but understanding can bring about love, I believe there is a lot we need to learn from each other, they say a bird at hand is better than thousand in the sky*, I will love to know what you want as a person, you can contact me with my personal email account as I do not come on this site often."

The punchline? If the guy in the picture is really him (unlikely...) he is verrry good looking.

*Editor's query: They do? Who are they? Who says this?

Celebrity Birthday

Who else?

Bob is 68 today.

Ancient Bob. Olde Bob.

Goodbye cruel world

The former President of South Korea committed suicide after being accused of bribery.

You think Mulroney has read this story yet?

Don't do it, Brian! heh heh

Mulroney would never consider this because it would mean he thought about words like shame and humility. Not in his vocabulary. We can't even get him to shut his trap for 5 minutes.

Poles on my Street

Nothing ever happens on my street...except for today. This is a quiet residential street that far too often turns into a drag strip. And no wonder, it's quiet alright, but it's also four cars wide.

I came home this evening to find that the city had installed four black and yellow striped metal poles, spaced just wide enough for a car to go through. I assume these are like vertical speed bumps, forcing cars to slow down to thread the needle, so to speak.

How long until one of the poles gets dinged? I say it happens this evening; certainly before the end of the weekend. If Kumar was still around, I'd bet big money that he would be the first to mow down a pole, but that is highly, highly unlikely.

I suppose some young idiots will see these poles as a challenges, try to drive between them without slowing down at all.

Those who know the street, know that this is a very long block. So how come these bumblebee maypoles ended up exactly in front of me? They would've been more appropriately sited next door in front of the Crazy Pole.

Oh well, if they are anything like the Stop sign at the corner of Fielding and Walkley, they should get flattened at least once a week.

Biz as usual

Back to work: BOO
But it's Friday: YAY

Email woes

Note to Ms Mushrooms et al,

So apparently my home email is shooting blanks. I swear there were actual words in the body of my messages. I did not set my font to "invisible ink". Ms M, I sent another message to you from home but using my work email via "remote" (hi-tech, baby), but I doubt that you got that either.

I guess I am out of email communication until I'm back at work tomorrow. People can send me messages but I won't respond. Kind of like being on a dating website.

Goof-Off Day

It is literally too nice a day to work today. So I am at home.

I told the boss yesterday that if it was warm and sunny, I would not be in. And so I won't be.

Exciting backyard (and front yard) chores await!

Somebody Stop Me

You know how I always say I prefer salt over sweet. Chips over pastry.

IGA is ruining my life.

They have come out with Compliments brand glazed donuts. They are SO CHEAP I had to buy them. 6 for $1.59. They are really fresh and yummy and now I can't stop buying them. I hope IGA puts the price up soon, so I can stop. I think $1.59 for 6 is an introductory price for a new product. It is evil. Eeeeveeeeel. I know myself. Miss Frugal would not buy them if they were $2.99.

It is not like me to be obsessed by glazed donuts. I've bought them 3 times in 3 weeks. That's 18 donuts!

At this rate, I will never weigh 100 pounds. :(

I work for idiots

Late last month my esteemed employer was in the news over some pesky corruption and budget deficit problems. Frankly, compared to British MPs, we are small-time crooks, but I digress.

Last Friday, or so the paper tells us, the organization, being run by the massive intellects that it is, decided to send two cease-and-desist letters to the retired employee who was bad-mouthing us in the press. It also scolded, but didn’t threaten to sue, the reporter who covered the story, calling him “unprofessional”. Hey, he did his job. By the standards of this place, that’s unprofessional.

Our brave/foolhardy retiree says he will not be intimidated by these letters and has hired one of the most famous lawyers in the province to defend him.

This could get good.

Apparently there is quite a bit of risk here because a lawsuit (or counter-suit) might force us to open up our books and, well, we all know how red-faced we’ll be if that happens. Why the powers-that-be decided to pursue the retiree, heaven only knows.

What’s worse that a dim bulb organization? A self-righteous dim bulb organization.

Pre-emptive Celebrity Death News

I have been informed by JAW Fan that some things are no laughing matter, and he will not be producing a poetic tribute when Farrah kicks the bucket.

The Internet being what it is, I'm sure there will be plenty of other places to find tributes to Farrah and her cancer of the, ahem, nether region. But NOT HERE.

So, this being the case, let me take this moment to say one thing:

Ryan O'Neal is fat. He's a fattie. He deserves to be joked about, but apparently the cone of Farrah is protecting him from all catty attacks.

Lucky tub o'lard.

100

What do you do about a friend who has gone nuts on a diet? And, no, I'm not jealous.

One of my work pals started in January on one of those diets where the company sends you all your meals for the week, so you don't do any cooking. And she has stuck to it. All she has to buy are her fruit and vegetables.

She's lost over 25 pounds and she wasn't that big to begin with. Today I asked her how long she intends to stick with this. She said: I'd like to weigh 100 pounds.

I didn't say anything, but I suspect my hair was standing on end. It's one thing to weigh 100 when you are 20; it's a whole other thing to weigh 100 when you are 50-something.

Three words come to mind: Scrawny turkey neck.

I don't know how many pounds she still has to go, but she already looks too thin. She said she enjoys the control she feels on this diet. Being totally out-of-control myself these days, I can admire that. But I can't imagine aiming for 100 pounds. Yikes.

Holiday Weekend

This morning, a Russian colleague said to me: Happy Birthday to your Queen!

I guess that covers it.

Scam Artists

Back on Miscellaneous Wednesday, I mentioned an email I got from a man who works for Cadbury (I repeat: Nom Nom Nom) telling me his tale of woe and loneliness. And I felt sorry for the guy and wished him good luck in his search.

Yesterday, I get a message from a man in the UK and his tale of woe is surprisingly similar to Mr. Dairy Milk. Both said that they had been widowers for four years and were raising a daughter alone, and how difficult that was. UK man jumped the shark, however, by adding that both his parents also died in the fiery crash that killed his wife. And, I thought, hmmm I see. If he hadn’t thrown that parent thing in he was still believable. But he blew it.

Which got me to thinking about Internet scams and an episode of Fifth Estate I saw a few years ago about this con man who had married 2 or 3 women that he had met on a Christian (!!) dating website. And he’d basically taken all of them for every cent. He was married to more than one at a time, but none of the women knew about the others.

And now I’m thinking, is it really that easy? Are women of a “certain age” really such easy marks? Why is four years considered to be a good timeframe for their alleged widowerhood, and why say they are raising a daughter rather than a son? There’s got to be evidence that this is the kind of detail in the story that lures the lonely woman in. How cruel to exploit a person’s loneliness.

The Internet: Source of endless fascination and creepiness.

"I must confess..."

One of the great things about on-line dating sites is the email from the "fisherman". The fisherman is a guy who throws out a generic email to every woman on the site in the hope of reeling one in. I got one this morning. It says:

"Hi Gorgeous,
I must confess, you are such a gorgeous looking woman that every good man will desire to have as a partner. I have read through your profile and i must say, i think we could make a match. Please i will realy like to know you more better and lets see how to make this become a reality. I await your kind responds. Please do email me your email address for better communication."

I must say, I don't think he deserves a responds.

Argh!

I haven't written anything about Canadian politics in a long time. You would've thought that an MP who terrorizes her servants would've motivated me, but no. Oh well.

But last night I saw the Conservatives' new attack ad on Iggy and I was disgusted. Is there any other sitting government party that runs vicious attack ads on the opposition when an election hasn't even been called.

I'm not an Iggy fan. I have said more than once that I truly believe the man lies when he claims to read the Sports section. Lies! Lies, I tell you.

But this ad that says Iggy is a Canadian of convenience, not a true Canadian, is crap. God forbid an academic leaves the country to have a successful career. He should've lived his whole life among the intelligensia of Calgary, right? What garbage. Because good Canadians live their whole lives here, like Mulroney, the $300,000 man.

I hate Harper.

It's Miscellaneous Wednesday

1. I can’t believe I never got around to posting on the “name the new flavour of Doritos” contest. I saw the white bag with big black Question Mark so many times and thought, yeah, must remember to blog about this golden opportunity for chip-related immortality, but I never did it. Now some other bozos have gone ahead and won the thing. I think they called it Scream Cheese. I could be wrong. Oh well. Another golden opportunity lost.

2. Watching CNN the other night with a panel discussing this Florida priest who ended up in the tabloids for making out on the beach with his girlfriend. He’s a very popular priest so apparently this is big news and a big problem for the local Church. Also, he’s exceptionally good-looking, and not just for a priest. Better than Richard Chamberlain even. So, my point is, the whole time this panel is discussing the good-looking vow-breaking priest, the caption refers to him as “Father Cutie”. Which I thought was incredibly dumb. Until I realized that is his actual name. Father Cutie? Who is rather cute. Why did he even bother joining the Church? Female parishioners must’ve been after him from day one. Poor Cutie.

3. I got a long email from a man on the new dating site. He lives in Ontario and works at a near-perfect place. No, not Frito-Lay, but close. Cadbury. Nom nom nom. Unfortunately, his email was far too detailed and revealing for me to be interested. Any introductory email that includes references to “growing old together” is way over the line. Anyway, there are some lonely people out there. That’s for sure. I will send him a nice response, though, and maybe ask for a few free Dairy Milk samples.

4. For all you Biggest Loser watchers out there. Helen won. She weighed 117, and she looked awful. Dehydrated, like a body builder. She should’ve stopped at 147. But she’s now $250,000 richer, so she can put those 30 pounds back on by eating expensive fancy foods.

My view from the trenches

I’ve been comparing the types of men who frequent the two dating sites I am now a member of.

The free site seems to have an overabundance of “polyamorous” musicians. Not a great demographic in my book. If you are late 30s/early 40s and still thinking your musician dream is going to happen one of these days…well. Enuf said. And that’s not even touching on the polyamorous mantra, i.e. I have so much love to give I need more than one woman. Oh, please.

The new paying site, by comparison, has an overabundance of, well, jews. Seems like half the men in Cote St. Luc are on this site. It’s weird. Maybe I could’ve just saved myself $30+ dollars by simply hanging out at IGA more.

News from the trenches

(Picture me in a World War I tin hat.)

In the bitter world of the romantic mail box, things are not looking promising at all.

I have been back in the on-line dating world for a week now, and let me tell you, friends, it’s dead out there. Deader than a dead Dom. Ain’t nuthin’ happenin’. Only old reliable Ignatius has any interest in talking to me, and frankly, I have to find a polite way to ditch him soon. Other than that, it has been pfffft.

So yesterday I decided to spend a bit of money and join another site, a paying one, to see if I can change my luck. I figure that the old site had one relationship in it, and that is over, so time to try another. It’s like a baseball bat that only has so many hits in it. Once it’s empty you gotta change bats, right? I think this old site had only one hit in it. No way there’s a second Kumar there (or anywhere else, come to think of it. He was a unique character.)

In joining a paying site, I am deluding myself into believing maybe there’s a higher grade of man. Like eggs or chickens. If they are willing to shell out a few bucks, well, maybe they are different from the others. I know. Who am I kidding? Anyway, I’m only joining for a month. I’ve already made a note on my calendar to not renew come June.

(Any wagers on how many weeks I can go before I email Kumar and say, this breaking-up was a terrible idea, come back now!? I predict I don’t make it to June.)

On the teevee

The TV commercial I can’t stand these days is for a bank credit card, the one where two women are grocery shopping, and one says: what did you get, like, 2 dollars? And the smart-ass other one says: Yeah! What did you get? What a beeotch (as the kids say today). Let me attest that in English and French, although they are two different actresses, this nasty woman is equally annoying. I just want to smack her superior smug face. In either official language.

On the other hand, the commercial I absolutely completely lurve is for some kind of toilet paper, and it has the cutest dog in the world getting pampered at a spa. It is so far off the cute-o-meter, it makes me go awwwwh every time. There are two separate spots with little pampered pooch and they are equally heart-melting.

Do(o)msday

Dom DiMaggio, Joe's brother, died. Age 92.

First Dom DeLuise, now Dom DiMaggio. Is there any other famous, semi-famous, brother-of-someone-famous, named Dom that we can toll the death knell for?

Dom Perignon. Maybe they'll declare bankruptcy. What this the recession and all. It could happen.

Any other Dom's?

Stupid busy Friday

How do I stop this flood of work? Argh!

Seriously, this is eating into blogging time. No joke.

No Mo NaPoMo?

Today is the final day of extended NaPoMo.

I vote to continue it unofficially, as long as:

a) Ms. M is still in the running for fabulous prizes*.
b) JAW Fan still feels he has some rhymes left in him.

Therefore, I declare continuing NaPoMo as an optional, lifestyle choice.

Do it if you wanna,
but you don't hafta.

*In my dream, she wins a dinette set and a year-long supply of Rice a Roni, the San Francisco treat.

H1N1

We had an hour-long presentation on the non-swine flu yesterday. Of the whole briefing, I retained only one important fact:

No unnecessary handshaking or kissing.

On a related note, my colleague and I had a similar thought this morning. If the current strain of the virus is mild in Canada, and the strain that is expected to sweep through in the autumn is likely to be more virulent, why not infect us now with the mild version so that we will all be immune come autumn. So instead of avoiding the flu now, we should be seeking it out.

I vote for lots of completely unnecessary handshaking and kissing.

Celebrity Death Ode

Ladies and Gents...your attention please,
There's been a death...Dom Deluise.
As of today, he's no longer alive.
Died in his sleep at seventy-five.
Sadly we mourn this man's demise
'Cause along with him, the laughter dies.
And as you weep with eyes that hurt,
I know you're all saying "Why wasn't it Burt?"

--JAW Fan

Good News Dept.

Another day,
another gala.
She's on a roll.

Our Ms. Mushrooms' book has been nominated for a 2nd award. Is it another provincial award, you may ask? No way. It's a national award.

Today Canada
Tomorrow zie World.

I'm beginning to suspect that Stephen Harper is right. I mean, what do these "artists" do, except attend "galas" eh? What, exactly?

I may have to continue continuing NaPoMo, I wouldn't want to mess with the streak. (I know my Bull Durham. You don't mess with a streak.)

One of the other nominees, in a different category, is none other than JAW Fan's favourite creative writing teacher. You know the one I mean. Maybe Ms M. can dramatically toss a glass of champagne in his face. When she's at the gala. That's what artists do. Stephen Harper will back me up on that one.

Back to the ole Romantic Mail Box

Here we go, Spring has sprung and it is time for all good singles to go back on the hunt.

Having officially (mutually) declared things kaput with Kumar last weekend, I put my profile back up on the web site yesterday. And today I got my first message.....

...from Ignatius.

You remember Ignatius? Of course you do. Well, he's back. I'll answer to be polite but I'd like to think after 6 months he would've moved on to bigger and better things than me.

I'm a nerd magnet. (Maybe I should reassess the Kumar situation. Kumar: The Sequel is sounding better and better.)

NaPoMo + Chip Review = Delish

With only a few days left to go
In the extension of NaPoMo,
Here's a special treat for you
An all-rhyming chip review:

After getting tipsy Friday night
I had a craving for a salty bite
Stopped off at the corner store
And browsed around, like Zsa Zsa Gabor

When there before my eyes did see
A new Lays chip called "Sweet Chili"
T'was clear what needed to be done
Quickly bought the bag and tasted one.

Thin in size...much like Don Knotts
But a true surprise...as was Paul Potts.
Not really spicy...but so f * *king tasty
Needless to say, they were devoured hasty

After, the bag, I had finished attacking,
An experience that was mmmm lip-smacking,
I was glad I had stopped at the dépanneur
'Cause a pleasant treat, these chippies were

According to this potato-gorgin' guy,
These Lays are worthy of a repeat buy
Full of a flavour that's truly great
On the wang-o-meter...inches, eight.

(submitted by JAW Fan, who else?)

Bleh! Grumpy!

On Friday night, I worked until 2:45 a.m. Yes, a.m., i.e. in the morning. I didn't get home until 3:15, and didn't get to sleep until 4:00.

This screwed up my entire weekend. I could not get my sleep pattern back on track. Now, I have to try to get to sleep at a decent time tonight, and go back to work tomorrow.

I hope that if, dear reader, you ever have to claim compensation for damage caused to an aircraft by an act of unlawful interference, you think of me, and my colleagues who spent ridiculous hours on this subject. Crazy.

First of May

Today is May Day
Workers unite!
I hate my employer
And I want a fight

But this is not
A place for fightin’
It’s a place
For poetry writin’

The calendar sez
NaPoMo’s in the can
But I sez, no way
Bring on more iamb

We’d be stuck with just prose
If NaPoMo had ended
We’d be sad and morose
But we’re glad it’s extended

Am I right?